


Haunted

by ButterflyBunny



Series: Avengers' Infinite Playlist [23]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Avocados at Law, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Civil War Fix-It, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Set in Wakanda, Steve Rogers Feels, Wakanda, made up law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 04:12:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10209374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyBunny/pseuds/ButterflyBunny
Summary: Bucky goes through the motions while in Wakanda. With T’Challa helping him, he tries to carry on with the life that is now his, while he tries to let go of the one he once thought he could have.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, James Buchanan Barnes.

[(Shake it out - Florence + The Machine)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WbN0nX61rIs)

 

_Bucky._

_Bucky._

“Come back, James”

His eyes snap open and he blinks several times trying to get his eyes to focus on the face hovering over him. Brown eyes look down at him with a mix of concern and curiosity while he tries to slow down his breathing, which is coming in harsh pants. 

“What…” His breath comes out harshly.

T’Challa glances at the monitor next to him, where the annoying beeping sound is coming from, Bucky knows is his heartbeat but he can still feel his heart trying to jump out of his ribcage. The treatment T’Challa was giving him was mentally exhausting but sometimes he felt like it was working. The strange device that was connected to his nape showed him memories he had long forgotten, memories that were buried deep by HYDRA.

“How are you feeling?” T’Challa asks, even though he knows Bucky’s head must be killing him.

“Fine” Bucky answers, not looking at T’Challa.

“Can you stand?” 

Bucky licks his lips but doesn’t answer. The image from his past is burning in the back of his head, right where his brain seems to be pushing against his skull. He takes his hand to his nape and blinks trying to focus his sight, his movement followed by T’Challa’s eyes. For a moment T’Challa thinks he is not going to answer but then Bucky whispers something. 

“James?” T’Challa asks.

“Is… Are they real?”

He asks for what feels the thousandth time. What he sees and hears. The images, the faces and voices, they seem like from a dream but also like memories, so he asks everytime. Just to be sure.

“You know the answer” T’Challa says, “What did you see?”

“My mother” Bucky takes a deep breath, his eyes looking up at T’Challa, “I saw my mother” he smiles sadly looking away.

“It was a good one this time” He hears a smile on T’Challa’s tone.

Bucky nods absently, his blue eyes shinny yet unfocused, pupils dilated. T’Challa stares at the monitor next to Bucky, pretending he’s making notes on the writing pad on his hands, instead he’s trying to remember if he read about Sergeant Barnes’ past before the military in any of the HYDRA archives his people decoded for him, or in the archives that were on him back in the states. 

“May I leave?” Bucky says suddenly.

T’Challa blinks several times looking at him, he is pale and is covered in cold sweat, he can see Bucky is tired too, just like at the end of every one of his sessions since they started using the retroframing device. T’Challa hadn’t explain where did he get the device or how it worked but he was clear in why was he using it and how could it help him. He believed that the words used to set him off were somehow connected to events from his past, if he could see what they were maybe he could give Bucky control of the words and no one would be able to make him comply to their orders.

“Of course” T’Challa says, “You need rest for the session tomorrow”

He starts ripping the leads attached to his chest before T’Challa finishes the sentence, reaching for something warm to cover himself, he hated how cold the laboratory was and how it seemed to be even colder during their sessions. He doesn’t bother in saying goodbye as he leaves, afraid his voice came out in a weak whisper or didn’t at all.

“You know they are all real” T’Challa says all of sudden, “Even the bad ones”

He doesn’t mean to say it like that, he regrets it when Bucky stops cold and tenses. T’Challa hadn’t being able to see Bucky’s memories, but he had heard Bucky calling for someone, he had seen the way he grip the chair like trying to reach for something. No one alive knew about Bucky’s complete past – Maybe only Steve – No one remembered his father, or his mother like Bucky Barnes did, or missed them. Or loved them.

“I know”

Bucky doesn’t look at him, but he gives a small nod, and then leaves the room. T’Challa leaves out a heavy sighs once he’s alone, he’s tired and hungry, but he can’t help but feel slightly proud that they made progress.

 

* * *

  

The treatment is so mentally exhausting that his brain seem to process everything slower after each one, he blinks away the nights and days become a haze, melting into each other until he can barely know what day of the week it is. He is tired, yes, but he is also getting more of his memories back. Most are good, his mother – even though her face is still a blur, he can remember her voice, that she use to be a singer – He remembers his and Steve’s earlier years, the first friends he made during army training, the life he once had. On the bad days… The days that he feels he doesn’t sleep well, or when he overthinks, those days the other memories are the ones that flood his mind.

Today was one of those days.

_Sergeant Barnes... the procedure has already started. You are to be the new fist of HYDRA._

Bucky opens his eyes and T’Challa grips his right shoulder, preventing him from standing from the chair. T’Challa is looking at him with a blank expression, and then he reaches slowly for his face, removing the small device hooked behind each side of his ears and Bucky can already feel the headache coming.

“Dizzy” T’Challa asks, “Pain?”

Bucky nods, slapping away the lamp that is near his face, “The lights…”

“Sensitivity” T’Challa hums, reaching for one of those tablets he often used, “Is normal”

Bucky rolls his eyes and grunts. Once he feels T’Challa had dismissed him he tries to stand up, he wants to leave and take a long nap if he can but his knees are too weak, and when is on his feet they give in. Sometimes – less that often – Bucky forgets his left arm is gone, so when he tries to reach for something he falls anyways.

“Fuck”

T’Challa looks at him from above, and he looks somehow taller. He returns his eyes to the tablet as Bucky stands up slowly by himself, leaning on the chair once he’s standing. Bucky’s lips quirk upwards feeling a little bit proud of himself, and T’Challa nods at him and before he leaves the laboratory he turns to T’Challa, who is looking at him go.

“Thanks” Bucky says meekly.

And T’Challa understands why.

 

* * *

 

The room he had been assigned was warm. He looks at the hour in the clock that stays in the nightstand, there is a radio next to it that wakes him up in the mornings, and at nights when he can’t sleep he listens to tunes in it. He likes the windows most of all, ample windows from where he could see more green than what he had seen in decades. They let the sun in every morning, until the sky turned from blue to orange and then purple, before the night fell upon Wakanda. He felt safe, yes, but still it didn’t feel like home. 

Of course it didn’t.

Bucky couldn’t remember what it was like to feel at home, in fact, he had never felt like home anywhere, except when he was with Steve. Steve, who could make a small cramped up apartment feel like the most comfortable place to live, Steve who was thousands of miles away hiding because he made him a criminal.

He reaches under his bed for the backpack Steve had sent him a few weeks ago, the one he had back when they met again in Bucarest. The notebooks inside keep the memories he recovered while he was by himself, although now most were of the ones T’Challa and his strange device helped him get. He also wrote about is nightmares, always scribbling “false” at the end of them, trying to make the separation of the two physical just like he separates both in his head. When he was more lucid he could tell the difference without the need of a reminder. 

He writes what he remembers from the session that morning, the black ink pen heavy in his hand as he writes as fast as he can. A knock on the door snaps him back to reality, he quickly closes the notebooks and hides them away as the door opens slowly.

“Mister James”

Nakia is one of T’Challa’s… Actually, he doesn’t really know. He had asked T’Challa about Wakanda’s culture before – the first time recieving no answer and the second one being sent to the library to read history books – he told him about their technology and things about their history that Bucky didn’t find on books, legends and myths, things about the Black Panther and the Dora Milaje. Nakia was part of the Dora Milaje, Bucky thought of them as housekeeperes and sometimes – he never said it out loud since it might be rude – he thought they were T’Challa’s wives.

“I brought you supper” She says with her thick accent.

“Thank you” Bucky nods, standing awkwardly across the room, he kicks the bag under the bed slowly. 

Nakia leaves the plate and a glass of water on the table next to her and then turns to him.

Nakia continues, “King T’Challa asked for you to be at the training grounds in the morning” she adds, “For… Training”

Bucky frowns slightly but still nods, following Nakia with his eyes as she leaves the room. As soon as the door closes behind her he moves to lock it, something he does out of costume, whether it was because he lived in a bad neighbourhood most of his life, or because he was almost used to hide, he doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter anyways, no one else will visit him, he was in the most desolated area of the king’s residence and as far as he knew not many people knew he was even there. 

He eats his meal in silence while the radio plays a song he doesn’t recognise, he never really recognises them even when he thinks he does. For some reason he thinks about the last time he had time to listen to something that soothed him like that in the twenty-first century. He remembers the small apartment in Hell’s Kitchen, the walls were thin enough to hear whatever went on in the next rooms, the muffled voices from the television next door helping him sleep. He moves to reach for the hidden bag under the bed and reaches inside for one of the notebooks – the less worn out one – and starts flipping through the pages until a small piece of paper falls to his lap. 

An old pharmacy receipt. The ink is almost faded on both sides of the wrinkled paper and a message, something like a joke or maybe a promise, looking back at him. 

Bucky didn’t know if Matt Murdock had entered his life by mistake or coincidence, he wasn’t one to believe in destiny but he was willing to think that could be a reason too. Whatever it was it was over now, Matt was gone or better said Bucky was gone, he was after all the one who left Hell’s Kitchen. It was the way it was for people like them. He would forget that he wanted to stay there, that he thought he could live the life he had made up for himself and that he could let someone just like him in, he would forget that he wanted something that was never really there.

A fake dream within the nightmare that was real.

But for one moment Matt was real too.

 

* * *

 

Is Okoye who knocks on his door the next morning. She doesn’t talk more than necessary and, unlike Nakia, she doesn’t bother with polite smiles, he doesn’t mind the silence much but he does mind the glances she throws at him. He knows she does it to intimidate him – as if the knife she had tuck in her tight wasn’t enough – which he can’t remember the last time he was, but they do make him feel uncomfortable. Is still dark outside, the cold wind hits his face as the gates are opened and he follows Okoye outside, where a few other women and men are already warming up for their training. 

T’Challa had explained that his soldiers were trained from an early age, just like he was. Their training was not only physical excercise but also mental, he imagined that was what the men sitting on the floor with their eyes closed were doing. Okoye takes him to a separated room, with nothing but big windows and mats on the floor.

“You are looking well rested” She mentions, unlike Nakia, her accent is not as thick but he could still detect traces of it. 

Bucky nods looking around, “I had a good night of sl-“

“Take your shoes off”

He presses his lips, “Where’s T’Challa?”

“ _King_ T’Challa” She says, toeing her shoes off, “Is on duty” Bucky does the same, “He is, after all, the King of Wakanda, a busy man”

Bucky nods but doesn’t say anything. Okoyo zips down the jacket she was wearing and instructs him to do the same, he takes his jacket off and throws it to the corner of the room not missing the way Okoyo chuckles under her breath. 

“Why are we-“

“the King told me what happened to your arm”

He wants to say that is pretty obvious what happened. Someone blew it off. But he isn’t sure if T’Challa told her about Siberia or maybe he told her everything. Okoye eyes him, her eyes traveling from his feet to his head, he tilts his head and she went poker-faced. 

“And that you’ve been out of… practice for a while, so I offered to help”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, “You want to fight me?” 

And for the first time since he’s met her, he sees her smile.

 

* * *

 

The training, she says, is to make his body strong again, so his mind becomes stronger too. For him fighting comes easy, as easy as breathing, even without his arm he puts on a good fight and so does Okogo. It goes on for weeks after that, and to be honest he enjoys being on the training field than in his room. T’Challa goes with him sometimes, sometimes is only Okoyo and one time the two acompanied him. He asked T’Challa about his relationship with Okoyo, he recieved a long look but never an answer, it wasn’t until one of his sessions with T’Challa that the man admited that even though the Dora Milaje were meant to be bodyguards he saw them as sisters. He also asked if he was interested in Okoyo, which Bucky answered with a surprised laugh that did not offend T’Challa at all, instead he looked relieved.

Despite his body becoming stronger, he feels his mind irreparably weak without his memory fully restored. The retroframing device becomes more useless the more he uses it, T’Challa – who he doesn’t see often anymore, with him having a country to rule – insists he had made more progress than the machine can help him do, and sometimes he believes him. 

The morning of his hundredth birthday he wakes up from another nightmare. He goes to the training room like he had been doing every morning during the week expecting to see Okoyo waiting for him, but is T’Challa who he finds inside the room, already warmed up, he could tell by the thin layer of sweat covering him. 

“You are looking rough, James”

He grunts, “I couldn’t sleep”

He shrugs his jacket off and takes his shirt off, getting in the same shirtless state as T’Challa. Bucky didn’t need to warm up since his body processed everything differently than others, in other words his muscles were always ready to beat up someone or something, and to get a beat up. Which he often got from the king during their sessions. He toes his shoes off and hears a small chuckle coming from T’Challa’s direction, since he didn’t have much sleep and he is not in the mood for “friendly banter” he decides to ignore him. 

“Let’s get this over with, _your majesty_ ” he murmurs.

Without a warning T’Challa makes his move, fast as always, and Bucky finds himself against the mat. T’Challa’s whole weight on top of him, he pushes him off and stands up. 

“What the-“

T’Challa is already on his feet, “You look like you want to lose today”

Bucky scowls at his direction, “Lose what? We are-“

“What keep you awake last night?” 

Instead of answering, Bucky moves to attack but ends up missing T’Challa. The man raises an eyebrow and Bucky goes at him again, he doesn’t miss the almost elegant way T’Challa dodges his attacks one after another until Bucky is panting, his breath coming out harsh, his chest moving up and down rapidly and he feels his blood boil in what he things is anger. 

“Just hit me” Bucky says, “If you want to fight me, do so, don’t do that stupid dance around thing- Fuck, man“ he pants, falling to his knees.

T’Challa does nothing at that. He freezes on his spot, not understanding where Bucky’s anger is coming from. Then he realises, is not anger is helplessness. T’Challa sits on the mat next to Bucky, far enough for him to not feel his space being invaded.

“I’m a hundred years old today” Bucky says after a few minutes, “I died in 1944”

T’Challa looks at him, “What keep you awake last night?” he asks again.

Bucky shakes his head running his hand through his hair, “Lately… I just keep falling” he explains, “From the train… I slipped through his- Steve’s fingers and I fall" 

“You must differentiate between what’s real and what’s not”

“But it was real” Bucky looks at him, eyes red rimmed and glassy, “Those years after that were real, every kill, every life I took… I remember them” He runs his hand through his face and hair, “I was trapped within myself”

T’Challa nods. Bucky had told him that he was concious inside his head while HYDRA controlled his body. An expectator to his own actions.

“Every time I took a life… it felt like the first time” Bucky says, “No two lives are the same” he shakes his head, “There was no getting used to” 

T’Challa nods looking away, “But every time you pulled that trigger, there were two victims, James, and one of them was behind that gun”

“And how do I convince the world of that?” He asks bitterly 

King T’Challa considers it for a second. He doesn’t know the amount of guilt that the other man is carrying, and will probably carry for the rest of his life, no one truly understands another person’s feelings and struggles. Two can only be similar but never the same. 

“It is not the world you must convince, but you who has to believe it”

Silence falls upon them once again, but this time is a peaceful one. No quiet noise or awkward need to fill it with meaningless words, because they had both said what they were meant to say and that was enough.

“You are a good king” Bucky says quietly, “But a better man”

For a second he thinks that T’Challa didn’t hear him, but then the man chuckles softly and he looks at him to see a small smile, almost shy, on his face. T’Challa, who is always so serious is smiling at his compliment, a glint on his eyes that makes Bucky’s insides feel constrained. He looks away.

“It is nice to hear something like that from someone who doesn’t necessarily have to be polite towards me” T’Challa admits, “Thank you, Bucky”

Bucky looks at him at the mention of his name. It was odd to hear his nickname from the king’s lips, but it was surprisingly nice too. 

“Your majesty” 

Both men turn to find Nakia in the entrance. T’Challa and Nakia start talking in their tongue, which Bucky obviously can’t understand, Nakia then nods after T’Challa finishes talking and throws a glance at Bucky before she leaves. T’Challa stands and offers Bucky his hand.

“Follow me”

 

* * *

 

“Steve”

His heart stops when he finds his friend in T’Challa’s private office. The blond offers him a small smile before Bucky walks over him and pulls him into a tight embrace that is returned almost immediately. He pulls back and smiles at his friend, he hasn’t smiled like that in so long that he feels that his face hurts, he looks at Steve’s face.

“What happened?”

Steve narrows his eyes, “a beard, you’ve had one for what? three years now?” 

Steve rubs his stubble-covered jaw self consciously and Bucky chuckles. He doesn’t mention that Steve looks tired, maybe even thinner – well, less muscular – and his clothes are wrinkled, like he slept on his way there. His smiles fades when he realises he doesn’t know why Steve is there, like he reads his mind, Steve licks his lips. Bucky notices he glances at the table behind him, where a thick yellow folder lays. Bucky throws a glance at T’Challa, who simply nods and leaves the room. Steve waits until the door closes to sit on the big couch behind him, Bucky does the same with a frown on his face as Steve runs a hand through his hair. 

“Everything alright?”

Steve nods, “Everything is fine, but I need to tells you something” 

“Is this about…” Bucky trails off, he doesn’t have an idea what it could be about, “Is T’Challa is trouble?”

“No, of course not” Steve raises an eyebrow, “So it’s just T’Challa now?” He chuckles and Bucky rolls his eyes, “We don’t see each other in six months and you already have a new best friend?”

That makes Bucky laugh, “Well, if I was going to replace you, only a king would be worthy” The other man chuckles shaking his head, Bucky then stares at his friend, “Steve, what’s this really about?”

He searches for a sign of concern or worry in the man’s features, but he doesn’t find any. Steve looks at him and slides the yellow folder towards him. Bucky frowns, picks it up and rips it open reaching inside, a questioning look in his face as Steve asks him to read what seem to be… a memorandum, or some kind of legal document directed to him. And Tony Stark. 

“This are…” Bucky starts reading through the papers inside.

“Maria Hill sent them to T’Challa, I asked him to let me know when they arrived” Steve explains.

Bucky doesn’t complain about the fact that Steve and T’Challa had communication all these months, while he had to wait weeks for the very few letter he got. But he understood that Steve was on the run, contacting one person was dangerous – and very hard – for him to do without being notice. He reads one of the names on the paper again.

“Did you understand them?”

“Tony Stark is paying lawyers to… defend me?” 

He doesn’t know if to laugh or cry. He continues reading after Steve throws him a pleading look even though he doesn’t understand why. He flips through the pages as fast as he can, picking up only the most important parts and skipping the mentions of HYDRA – a hard thing to fo since it appeared in almost every page. These papers were a protection for him, once he was found or if he surrender himself, he was going to be sent to a rehabilitation compound, where he would get the psychological treatment he needed instead of being sent to a prison. He finds the name of his “lawyer” and repeats it several times in his head, not understanding why does it sound so familiar. 

“Franklin Nelson” He says out loud.

Steve nods, “He is the one in charge of the case”

 “He is… In charge” Bucky says flatly.

“Natasha says we can trust him” Steve adds.

Bucky considers it for a minute, “And do you trust her?" 

Steve nods, “I do” 

The rooms goes silent again, while both men figure out what to say next in their heads. Is Bucky who speaks first, not being able to look at his friend.

“One man is suppose to convince the world that I am somehow innocent?” 

Steve looks at him like he just insulted his mother. He throws the papers on the table and leans back on the couch they were both sharing, Steve sighs heavily and hides his face in his hands somehow looking defeated.

“I know it looks too good to be true.

“It does” Bucky retorts.

“But this is real" Steve looks at him, “You can go home”

“I don’t have a home, Steve” Bucky says in a whisper. 

Steve sighs, “You know what I mean” he says, “Look, Wanda is there, she fought with us and got the same deal… Is better to do this before the Accords completely settle“ He lets out a breath, “It’s up to you, Buck, they don’t know where you are, you can choose to stay”

Bucky chuckles and looks at him, “I don’t really have a choice, Steve” he says, “I don’t want to keep hiding”

Steve smiles sadly, “Then… What do you want to do?”

Bucky doesn’t need to answer him for Steve to know what he wants to do. He leans back on the couch and so does Steve, both release a heavy tired sigh and Bucky rubs his eyes, closing them as hard as he can, only opening them when he feels Steve’s hand heavy on his shoulder.

“Happy hundredth birthday, by the way”

Bucky smiles softly at the ceiling, feeling Steve relax next to him.

 

* * *

 

Steve leaves Wakanda the next day before the sun goes out. He is still after all on the run. He leaves him a small package before they part ways, leaving Buck behind for what feels the tenth time, but this time there isn’t that unpleasant feeling in his gut that they won’t see eachother again. Instead, he is looking forward for what came next knowing that he will see Steve again in the future, when they were both free of everything that have been keeping them apart all this time.

 

* * *

 

He knocks on the door twice. Next to him Okoye offers him a small smile and a nod when the doors unlock. Bucky is glad that their relationship changed, even if it took a few beat downs from the woman – a few times he let her win, by the way – he dared to say that once he left he was going to miss her. He likes to think she will miss him too. 

“Bucky”

T’Challa asks him to enter as Okoye closes the doors behind him. He walks towards the man, as he looks around the very first room he visited when he arrived to Wakanda. He could see the cryo chamber he spent weeks in before he was woken up, that is one thing he won’t miss at all.

“I got something for you”

Bucky frowns, sitting on the chair across from T’Challa.

“A… Farewell present if you may” T’Challa adds.

“Oh”

T’Challa presses a few buttons on the tablet in his hands and one of the chambers like gabinets opens, revealing the present for Bucky. He looks at T’Challa and the man smiles proudly at his amazement. the arm is a shinny as his previous one, but it seems leaner, seamless almost like an actual arm even though it didn’t look like one.

“Is pure vibranium” T’Challa says, “My people have been working on it for a few months” 

Bucky reaches for it, but stops himself looking over his shoulder at the other man. 

“It's yours, Bucky” He says. 

“I can’t accept it” Bucky says, his voice barely above a whisper, “I thought vibranium was only for-“ 

“It was” T’Challa nods, “We tried to keep it hidden from the world enough… The events of last year proved that hidding away is not always the best way to live our lives”

Bucky chuckles softly, “I see you are glad I’m leaving” he half jokes.

The king’s lips quirk upwards, “I am glad that you are moving forward”

T’Challa walks towards him, until they are both looking at the shinny vibranium arm infront of them. Arms crossed the kind throws him a sideways glance, and with a small smile he puts his hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly. Bucky turns to him and nods.

 

* * *

 

When he wakes up that morning is quiet outside. Nakia and Okoye visit him early and leave his breakfast and their goodbyes, Nakia hugs him and then apologizes – he assures her it was very welcomed – while Okoye cups his jaw and says something in their tongue that he doesn’t understand. 

“It means to have luck in your journey” Okoye kisses his cheek, “And to not forget what I’ve taught you” 

Bucky’s lips curved upwards, “I won’t” He looks at both women, “Thank you”

They are the ones to take him to the heliport, where a quinjet is waiting for him. He recognizes the woman that steps out of it, Maria Hill walks towards him and shares a few words with Okoye.

She smiles at him, “I’m Maria Hill”

“I know” Bucky nods.

“Is a shame King T’Challa wasn’t able to come” Maria says as they walk towards the jet, “I’ve heard he’s quite a looker”

Maria seems nervous, but not because of his presence, he realises it once they step inside and he sees Tony Stark waiting for him inside. Maria whispers to his ear that the authorities required his presence there, he nods and sits in the furthest chair from him, as Maria sits between the two men – almost like she was ready for a brawl, or at least a nasty exchange of words – and instructs him to put his seatbelt on. 

For some reason he looks at Tony, “Thank you” he says.

Maria takes a deep breath. For a few seconds Tony doesn’t answer and Bucky thinks he didn’t hear him, he doesn’t really mind since he doesn’t really know why he opened his mouth in the first place. 

“I didn’t do it for you” Tony answers. 

Bucky doesn’t know Tony Stark. He doesn’t know why is he considered a genius, if he is actually a phylantrophist and he doesn’t know why – and if he still – calls himself a “play boy”. But when Tony Stark tells him that he’s not doing anything for him he knows he is not lying, and he also knows that he’s doing it for Steve.

And Steve Rogers is someone Bucky knows well. Still.

 

 

 

_“And I am done with my graceless heart, so tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart… I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope… And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back, so shake him off..."_

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are welcome!


End file.
